


Inheritance

by tricksterity



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e17 Silverfinger, Gen, Nogitsune!Stiles, Silverfinger, dark!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterity/pseuds/tricksterity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott wasn’t all too sure how he figured it out. He couldn’t really explain it or point to one specific instance that made him realize what he did, he had no hard evidence or proof, but he knew it just the same. Stiles, his best friend, was the dark spirit; the nogitsune, the void trickster spirit. Kira’s kin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> I can't even explain how much I adore dark!Stiles and I literally can't believe that it's canon, so I wrote this little thing because it can go one of two ways: Stiles was possessed via the door in his mind, or it was passed down from Claudia to him.

Scott wasn’t all too sure how he figured it out. He couldn’t really explain it or point to one specific instance that made him realize what he did, he had no hard evidence or proof, but he knew it just the same. In between the discussions with Deaton and Peter, who always knew more than they let on, between the information Chris got and the secrets in Claudia Stilinski’s file, the weird behavior and that first strange confession the day after the incident with Barrow, it was like frail strands making up a spider web connected in the middle, creating a whole picture. 

It was a hectic month of _oni_ appearing out of the shadows, of himself and his friends falling to the ground being marked, of being halted at every corner, every avenue of investigation being a dead-end. It was his behavior, his intelligence, the realization that his best friend was ever so gently, subtly, unnoticeably pulling the strings of everyone, manipulating even Lydia and Peter, blinding everyone to the truth. The more Scott looked into it, the identity of his best friend became clearer like a steamed-up mirror slowly becoming clearer and stronger. 

Stiles was the dark spirit; the _nogitsune_ , the void trickster spirit. Kira’s kin.

Or at least, he was possessed by it. Scott knew that the Nemeton ritual had hit Stiles the hardest, that while he and Allison managed to control what they saw, Stiles had been avoiding school, running out of class, having nightmares, sleepwalking, panic attacks and hallucinations that blurred the lines of reality and dreams. There were doors in their minds hanging wide open, and something had crawled into Stiles when they weren’t looking. Something impossibly intelligent, something that fed off their fear and tragedy and the chaos it caused, something that could rip the firefly hearts of out demons. 

A creature of darkness had slithered into his best friend’s mind and weaved itself throughout his veins, making it’s home between Stiles’ ribs, wrapping around his heart and his bones, controlling every thought and impulse and motion and sound. It had been there for a while, testing it’s limits, and the mirror had finally cleared over the most insignificant thing. The surface of the world had shattered, and Scott didn’t need his Alpha vision (not that it would help) to see what was right in front of him.

He called a meeting, werewolves and hunters and humans alike. Inside Deaton’s office, his pack (minus Stiles) stood around a silver gurney, joined by Chris Argent, the then-Alpha-now-Omega twins, Derek and Peter, Lydia, Scott’s mother, Kira, even the Sheriff. Allison and Isaac were too close for comfort but Scott really couldn’t bring himself to care when the fate of his best friend was on the line.

“You said that the _oni_ were looking for the _nogitsune_ , and so far we haven’t found anything. Everyone in this room – minus Deaton – has been marked, and none of us are possessed,” Scott started. “We know that it’s in this town, otherwise the _oni_ would have left. We also know that there used to be five, and in the most recent encounter we only found four. That means the void spirit has managed to kill one of them, supposedly unkillable.”

“Your point being?” Peter drawled, looking bored as ever. “We’ve been researching for months and we haven’t come up with anything, and the only kitsune we have seems to be utterly useless at sensing her own species.”

“Well sorry if I’ve only had a month to process that I’m not exactly human,” Kira retorted. Usually quiet and a little bashful, Kira had taken a deep dislike towards Peter, which wasn’t a shock to anyone in the slightest. “I’ve been trying, I really have, and I’ve been making progress with my powers but I can’t sense another kitsune, I’m sorry,” Kira apologized.

“You don’t need to,” Scott said. “I know who it is.”

Immediately every pair of eyes in the room turned to him, minus Peter, who looked around the room and had a look of realization cross over his features, plus what appeared to be a small smirk.

“Who is it?” Allison asked.

“Whoever isn’t in this room,” Peter replied. Everyone hurriedly looked around, taking note of who was there, and every eye stopped on the Sheriff, and the obnoxiously empty space next to him where his loud-mouthed son usually stood. 

“You mean… _Stiles_?” Lydia asked, hesitant to even comprehend the words let alone think about the possibility that one of her now closest friends could be the evil spirit everyone had been looking for. The friend who always figured things out, who could always be relied on, who was probably the only person in the room who was as intelligent as she was. 

“He can’t be!” the Sheriff exclaimed, but a few faces around the room had seemed to realize the glaring truth – Deaton, Peter, Lydia, Derek and Chris. Everyone else barely dared to imagine.

“It makes sense,” Deaton said. “His mind was the most vulnerable out of the three during the ritual, having experienced more tragedy in his life, it made him the most likely target for possession. He’s been involved in all the research; he would have had the advantage of turning anyone away when they got too close. His hallucinations have started to get uncontrollable, it’s possible that the _nogitsune_ is close to entirely possessing him.”

“He admitted to me a few weeks ago that he’d been having blackouts,” Melissa said. “Sleepwalking, too. I thought he was just sleep deprived, but…”

“Guys, this is _Stiles_ we’re talking about,” Isaac interjected. “I know he’s smart as hell but he can’t be some dark spirit. We’d have noticed.”

“Just because it’s a dark spirit that doesn’t mean it can only possess people who are potentially evil. It can take anyone if the means of possession are there,” Deaton interjected. 

“Even someone as… optimistic as Stiles,” Chris said.

“I wouldn’t say the kid doesn’t have any darkness in him,” Peter said. “He’s been through a lot, and he has a ruthless kind of intelligence, not that any of you probably noticed. In case you forgot, he’s usually all for killing rather than his morally constipated best friend over there.” 

“He’s too good to be evil though,” Lydia said. “I know him, he may have that potential but he will always choose good.”

“Guys, that doesn’t matter!” Scott shouted, getting everyone’s attention back. “What matters is that Stiles has been possessed for the sole reason of the darkness around his heart and the door in his mind. This could’ve been going on for weeks, months now, and we’ve never even noticed. We have to help him.”

“I don’t suppose you know any exorcisms to get rid of an evil trickster spirit?” Allison asked Deaton, who looked warily at the Sheriff. Melissa had put a comforting hand on his shoulder as the Sheriff looked blankly at the gurney, disappointment in himself etching onto his face. 

“I know something that might work, but it will be painful for Stiles, and I’m not entirely sure it will be successful,” Deaton said. This seemed to shake the Sheriff out of his daze to look at the vet.

“Can’t we just get those masked guys to deal with it? Isn’t that what they’re here for?” he asked. Deaton shook his head solemnly.

“They came here to kill the spirit. Unfortunately the spirit can kill them back, and that means Stiles is a threat to them. They don’t care about the life of one human and they will undoubtedly kill Stiles if it means they destroy the spirit. At least by exorcism, there’s the possibility that Stiles will survive,” Deaton explained.

“What are his chances?” Lydia asked, fists clenched with knuckles white.

“About fifty-fifty,” Deaton admitted, and the Sheriff slumped.

“That’s better than nothing,” he said, and Deaton gave him a tight smile. “Do what you have to, but you get my son back.” 

And so the plan was set in motion, with all of their little group contributing. The _nogitsune_ was much too intelligent for anything other than pure stealth and subtlety to work, which was where Peter shined with his manipulative skills. It took three hours to create a hopefully foolproof and flawless plan, and an entire week to lay it in motion. They turned the spirit’s tricks back in on itself, using it’s own ability to pull the strings behind the scene to manipulate it into thinking that they knew who the creature was possessing, that they had an idea and were willing to test it out.

Lydia was the bait, using the reasoning that her mind had been weakened from possession by Peter, she was the most likely candidate to be possessed, plus her being a banshee meant that she was around death and pain more than anybody else. They convinced Stiles – and through him, the spirit – that she was the _nogitsune_ , and that they would summon the _oni_ to exorcise it from Lydia’s body.

Stiles, unsurprisingly, didn’t believe that it could be Lydia, but when their entire group dropped subliminal clues everywhere he went, it was difficult for him to believe anything otherwise. It was a plan of pure elegance that Peter unfortunately had to be given most of the credit for, and by the time the plan had come to full fruition, Stiles was completely convinced and in on the ‘real’ plan.

Scott’s heart was pumping so loudly he was sure that even those without supernatural senses could hear it thumping in the echoing emptiness of the warehouse. Stiles was next to him, Isaac, Kira and Allison across the room, the twins on a shadowed balcony, Derek and Peter in another corner and Deaton stood at the ready, an old book in his hand and a vile of mountain ash in the other. Kira had assured them that she couldn’t get past the mountain ash, and that meant that other types of kitsune wouldn’t be able to either.

They all waited patiently for Lydia, while everyone kept one eye on Stiles, utterly oblivious to the trap that was currently being set. A single creaking door echoed throughout the dark warehouse, and Lydia entered, playing confused and worried absolutely flawlessly.

“Guys, what’s going on?” she asked, perfect tone and pitch, and Scott looked solemnly at her.

“Lydia, you’ve been having blackouts recently, haven’t you?” Scott asked.

“I always do, whenever I find my way to dead bodies, remember?” Lydia said, bitchy tone on par.

“But you’ve been having them without finding any bodies, aren’t you? You’ve been finding things that aren’t yours, sleepwalking…” Scott said.

“How do you know?” Lydia asked, stepping back gently.

“We think that you’re possessed by the _nogitsune_ , and we’re going to get the _oni_ to exorcise it from you. It’s harmless if done correctly, but you have to make sure that it doesn’t gain control while we do this, okay?” Scott said, and Lydia’s face fell. Confusion, hurt and terror set in, and she looked to Stiles for comfort.

“Stiles…? You don’t think I’m…” she called helplessly, and Stiles swallowed thickly, and as planned, moved towards her to give her the comfort she so desperately needed.

“You’re going to be fine Lydie, I promise that this won’t hurt you at all,” he vowed, sounding so strong yet concerned that Scott once again wondered if his best friend really was possessed. Lydia breathed in a shaky breath, and Stiles stood forward to capture her hands.

“You’ll be fine,” he said comfortingly, and Lydia looked up at him.

“I know,” she said, and in one swift movement she ripped her hands out of his and grabbed a bottle from her jacket pocket and smashed it on the ground. Like a rush of air, the mountain ash formed a perfect circle around the two, and Lydia stepped cleanly over the barrier, undeterred. 

It was time for the confusion to now settle on Stiles’ face, then the realization, then hurt and fear as he turned back to his best friend.

“Scott, what are you doing?” he asked, voice shaking.

“Helping. The spirit possessed you through the door in your mind, and Deaton knows how to exorcise it. The _oni_ will kill you if we summon them, so he knows a spell that will get rid of it and leave you alive… hopefully,” Scott admitted.

“Hopefully? What do you mean hopefully? You mean that you’re perfectly fine if this exorcism kills me in the process?” Stiles spluttered, terror evident in his eyes.

“You have a higher chance of surviving this than if the _oni_ find you, Stiles,” Deaton said, stepping forward. “But I warn you, it will be painful, but if you can endure it and find something to anchor you to life, you will survive.”

“Please, please don’t do this,” Stiles begged. “You don’t understand, you can’t do this!”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Stiles,” Scott pleaded. “When it’s gone, the hallucinations will go with it. This will shut the door in your mind too, and you’ll be okay again.”

“Scott, seriously, don’t do this. You don’t know what will happen to me, and I’m not a danger to any of you!” Stiles continued, fear saturating his voice, sounding more scared that he ever had in his life. 

“I’m sorry, Stiles. Try to hold on,” Deaton said, before opening the tome in his hands and reciting the exorcism. Almost immediately, Stiles froze, and as the chant continued Scott wanted to tear the book away from Deaton as his best friend started to seize grotesquely, eyes rolling back into his head as he fell to his knees. Thunder clapped and rolled in as Deaton chanted louder, and everyone stared in horror as Stiles fell back, blood seeping from his nose, eyes and mouth, but he remained completely silent as his body writhed and thrashed, trapped within the confines of the mountain ash circle.

It wasn’t until Stiles opened his mouth and let out a blood-curdling, pain-filled scream that rivaled Lydia that Scott ordered Deaton to stop, realizing that something was deeply wrong. His normal vision should’ve been able to see the spirit escaping out of Stiles’ mouth, but even with his Alpha vision on he saw the aura around Stiles stretching and tearing, like it was glitching horribly around his body, being torn from within his very soul and holding on with everything it had; not a bright flame orange like Kira’s but onyx shot through with glowing silver. 

“Fuck, it’s not possessing him,” Peter realized, “it _is_ him.” 

Immediately Scott threw himself at the mountain ash barrier, trying desperately to get through to his best friend with no avail. Lydia hurried forward and broke the circle, and the two clutched Stiles’ body between them, blood smeared over him entirely as his body jerked like his nerves were being electrocuted.

“God, what have we done?” Lydia muttered. 

“Stiles, are you okay? _Stiles!_ ” Scott shouted, wiping the blood off his best friend’s face, hearing his heart race at a million miles an hour, almost like a hummingbird’s wings. Lydia clasped one of Stiles’ hands while the rest of their group gathered around them, deathly silent, hands covering mouths or faces white in shock.

“Stiles, I’m so sorry I didn’t know, please don’t be dead, c’mon man,” Scott begged, brushing Stiles’ hair back before cupping the back of his neck and leeching the pain out, gritting his teeth all the while. Stiles soon stopped spasming and sighed, heartbeat regulating as his eyes fluttered open, unfocused but soon looking at Scott.

“You dick,” Stiles insulted half-heartedly, still out of breath, and Scott laughed, a smile stretching his face out.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Stiles? We nearly killed you,” Lydia admonished, and Stiles turned around to look at her.

“I was scared you would anyway. I didn’t know what I was until the ritual; it seemed to… open up something inside me. Passed down from my mom to me, it was dormant up until now I guess. It’s who I am,” Stiles whispered, and Deaton hummed thoughtfully.

“The spark in you, I recognize it now,” Deaton noted.

“Stiles, I’m so sorry, and if you never forgive me I can totally understand,” Scott begged, and Stiles just smiled at him.

“Ah, it’s fine, what are best friends for?” Stiles replied with a laugh. Scott huffed a laugh and clasped his best friend’s hand, the situation like a reverse of the Glen Capri, when he’d stood in gasoline and Stiles had stood in it with him, tears pouring down both of their faces, unwilling to live with the other one dead. Scott still couldn’t believe that Stiles wouldn’t tell him, but his reminiscing was broken when Allison let out a gasp. 

Scott and Lydia hauled Stiles to his feet as the four _oni_ materialized around them, somehow knowing what had just happened, considering they were all staring at Stiles. A quick flick into Alpha vision confirmed that Stiles’ aura was still flickering weakly around his body, pulsating and curling up around itself like an injured cat. 

“You don’t need to kill him, he’s not a threat,” Derek said, standing in front of the trio. 

“That’s not a good idea, Derek,” Peter sing-songed as one of the _oni_ pulled it’s blade out, looking ready to cut Derek through. The twins jumped down from their perch to attack one of the demons, but they were flung away like ragdolls. Deaton threw an arm over Scott’s chest and Isaac stood with Derek, both half-transformed and ready to fight. Allison pulled a blade out of nowhere, even though they all knew that manmade weapons didn’t do a single thing against the demons, not even their claws. 

Derek was flung out of the way as he attacked, followed by Isaac and Allison, and Deaton began to chant a spell before he too was thrown aside. It was only Lydia and Scott left to protect Stiles, who could barely stand on his two feet, as everybody looked on helplessly. Peter had wisely stayed out of the way, knowing that he couldn’t do anything, and was watching with what seemed like morbid curiosity. 

“Stay away from him! He’s not a threat; he isn’t going to hurt anyone! He’s not possessed!” Scott begged, and he could feel Lydia shaking on the other side of Stiles. The _oni_ didn’t seem to care, and pressed on, all four of them raising their weapons up as the advanced in a line towards them. “Stop!” Scott roared, but the power of an Alpha did nothing against them. They tried to step backwards, but the _oni_ just advanced faster.

One of the black-masked demons thrust its sword towards Stiles…

…Who grabbed the blade with his bare hand that he’d whipped out from its place Scott’s shoulders. Shakily, Stiles stood his ground, then took the other arm out from behind Lydia to grab the other end of the blade, and with a jerk, snapped the blade clean off the hilt. The _oni_ advanced, and Stiles thrust his hand into its chest, glowing firefly light spilling out as it turned to smoke around him, and disintegrated entirely as Stiles pulled his hand free. He slowly opened his fingers to reveal a quivering firefly sitting on his palm, which he calmly crushed, turning to more smoke.

The remaining three _oni_ seemed to pause, before deciding to attack as one. Before Scott could yell out, Stiles’ body moved in a flurry almost too fast for Scott to keep track of, every hit making contact with the demons, unlike their own weapons and claws which did nothing other than hit smoke. Stiles turned their own weapons against them and dispatched them with calm ruthlessness, and soon there was nothing but three struggling fireflies in his fist, which he held up and with finality, killed. 

When he looked up to Scott, his irises were glowing silver. 

“Like I said, ruthless,” Peter boasted, before being unceremoniously thrown to the ground with a flick of Stiles’ hand. Shocked silence filled the warehouse as the realization that intelligent yet fragile Stiles had just killed four (technically five) demons, and nobody really had anything to say as Stiles’ eyes stopped glowing and the menacing expression gave way to slight embarrassment.

“So… curly fries, anyone?”


End file.
